Of Hunting Dragons
by McSlendy
Summary: The Dragonborn, Hammond Hammer-Hand, is sent to Remnant by Hermaeus Mora to learn about the world's secrets. And he is not happy about it. Read on as he looks for a way back home while trying (and failing) to distance himself from his so-called fellow Hunters-In-Training. This is a semi-dark crossover in which my de-aged character from Skyrim somehow gets stuck in the RWBYverse.
1. Chapter I

_Disclaimer:  
_ RWBY, by all accounts, definitely does not belong to me, and neither does Skyrim. Though Monty Oum has passed away (may the gods continue to bless his soul and sing of his praises) and Rooster Teeth have taken up the reins, he'll never be forgotten.

 _Author's Note 1:_  
Hey guys. I'm just here to let out another story out of my head. I'm sorry to disappoint if it turns out to be stupid. On the other hand, I'm also sorry that it's taking me this long to do something about my other fanfics. Sigh. But enough of that. Here's hoping you guys like this abomination I've churned out from the dark depths of depravity that is my mind. And I'm just making up this story as I go along. I'm also happy to say that if there are some things you don't understand or know about The Elder Scrolls, you will have to look them up yourself. I'm too jaded to care. On a side note... Someone help me. I don't think I know what I'm doing anymore.

* * *

 **OF HUNTING DRAGONS**

 **I**

* * *

"No."

A great Eye opened. It looked down slowly, and slimy tentacles lazily writhed in their masses around it.

A man looked back up to the Eye furiously. He kept his glare, even as the bright green sky above him opened to reveal more tentacles. On a potted black plateau of unknown material, there he stood. He paid no attention to the vast expanse of oily black-green water far below him, stretching as far as he could see in the fog, even as creatures far too horrifying to describe swam and lurked beneath it's depths. It was thanks to his _Force_ of character that he hadn't gone mad in such a bizarre, alien place. A place where no man should never have set foot upon.

Apocrypha.

The realm of the Daedric Prince, Hermaeus Mora - _the riddle unsolveable, the door unopenable, the book unreadable, the question unanswerable._

His self-proclaimed master.

 **"Hammond Hammer-Hand."**

The Eye yawned. Its voice was grandfatherly, caring. _It was wrong._ The man's name echoed softly throughout the realm. Of it's lesser inhabitants they roared on hearing it, while those of vaguely human appearance kept silent but watched. The more monstrous of their kind simply sunk back to the waters, or bellowed enraged haunting roars as they scaled the plateau. The wind laughed, and as pages ripped from books flew into a growing hurricane, the man firmly stood his ground. His blond hair fluttered weakly in the laughter, like a forgotten and tattered flag.

 **" _You will obey._ "**

"I am not your servant, demon!"

A hum filled the silence as Hammond lost his _Balance_ , seeing the world around him grow dark. Unfathomable rumbling came from below, and the whole of Apocrypha shook. Bookshelves fell, crushing the slow, and in the distance whole landscapes formed of books collapsed and remade themselves chaotically. The Eye was chuckling now; its pincers clicking as they appeared from the midst of the drifting tendrils in the air. Hammond grit his teeth and drew his axe. The way it focused on him - returning his glare - made his blood boil, and his bones ached for a fight.

 **"Oh, but you _are._ "**

Those words tipped the man over the edge. He growled, swinging his axe as the first wave of tentacles tried to subdue him, to make him kneel before the Eye. Five of them met the ground, only to melt into ichor-ink as slick as blood, and countless more erupted from their stumps. One tied itself around his leg, and he hacked it off, but soon the numbers overwhelmed him. Even so, he struggled and thrashed against his living bindings. In but a moment, his axe was ripped away from his grip, a pincer shattering it's blade and a tentacle crushing his old friend's remains.

Hammond didn't scream for mercy, then, not even when a pincer bit into his neck and lifted him up high in the sky for all to jeer at, and not even when the pain darkened his vision.

He would not show weakness. He was a proud Nord, and he strived to die like one, dying in a most horrible manner be damned. He would never submit to the demonic being before him.

 **"As I have said before, I have a... _daunting_... task for you." ** The Eye whispered, its soothing tone a blatant lie in the light of what it just did. **"You will be richly... _rewarded._ "**

The man's steel blue eyes narrowed further, and the pincer which held him aloft loosened just enough to stop biting into his neck. Though, the wounds it left remained, and the blood that leaked from them had already stained the tunic he wore underneath his armor of steel. Hammond had enough strength of mind to will himself into staying conscious and listen to his captor, not that he had a choice. With Hermaeus Mora being the lord of Apocrypha, time meant nothing to the Daedric Prince. He would be tortured to death, and it was not an honorable way to die.

He had no choice but to listen. But he did not like how the Eye gazing back at him looked pleased at his apparent submission.

 **"I will be _sending_ you to another world." ** Hammond could _feel_ the smirk. **"This world... has secrets _I want._ "**

The man spat out his blood. He knew what Hermaeus Mora meant by that. He would act as his unwitting agent once again, and somewhere down the line someone will die because of him. Storn Crag-Strider's death was one thing, but the deaths of innocents from another world? He felt disgust for himself, and at the being whose will he was forced to carry out. Soon after, sorrow replaced both. Deep down, he knew, there was nothing he could do for whoever the demon wanted to kill for whatever knowledge they kept secret to themselves. And it was all too damning.

The Eye laughed at his feeble display of defiance. Its voice, once kindly, turned deep and ominous as the skies rippled, the thin veil of what barely passed as reality allowing Hammond to see Apocrypha for what it truly was, beyond the books, beyond it's monstrous inhabitants, and beyond the dark promises of forbidden knowledge kept in the realm's unending rows of bookshelves. He almost lost his sanity - just one more _Push_ , and he would have become a madman, lost in the recesses of his fractured mind had he not closed his eyes and thought of his dear family.

"What kind of secrets?" He hoarsely grumbled, the remaining blood in his throat and the pincer holding him high making it difficult to speak. He still kept his eyes closed. "What must I do?"

Hermaeus Mora chuckled again. **"Good. You are learning _your place._ "**

The Daedric Prince withdrew its visage. The man before it had been cowed enough, and thus was let go. He fell feet first. At least he had landed on them, and his boots had cushioned the fall into something that he could tolerate. The wind blew harsh, and suddenly the air felt colder, fresher than before. Gone were the sounds of monsters. When the Nord opened his eyes, he saw not Apocrypha, but a beautiful autumn forest cast in darkness - it was night-time, wherever he was. It reminded him of the trees around Riften, their leaves ever golden, ever falling.

The Gardener of Men was still there though - a mass of tentacles, pincers, and Eye writhing above him.

 ** _"Beautiful, is it not?"_**

Hammond looked around, weary. Not even insects dared to make a sound in the presence of an otherworldly being, and nor did any nocturnal animal dare to make itself known to it. Then he happened to look up, and saw a broken moon hung low in the sky. He raised an eyebrow. What happened to it? But, it was nothing compared to the things he's seen back home. Auroras shimmering in the starry night skies tended to raise one's standards overtly higher than expected, not to mention the other magnificent sights he'd been treated to in the years past.

Tamriel was a beautiful place after all, despite all it's faults.

"Where... where are we?" He asked; the silence was deafening, unsettling. He didn't like it. "It doesn't feel like we're in Skyrim. Are we in this world which you've spoken of, demon?"

 **"Yes."** The Prince purred. **"Welcome to Remnant, _my servant._ "**

The blond barbarian's eyebrow twitched, but he let it slide. He had far more things to worry about right now. Namely, what does he need to do to get back home as quickly as possible?

 **"Listen well. _Follow_ the path ahead. You will _reach_ a place called Vale. There, look for a _man_ named Junior - ask around if you need to. He will help you on your... _task_."**

"... Fine!" The Nord snapped. "I'll do just that. But I know nothing of this world and of it's people."

 **"Oh, you will learn more about both _soon enough._ " **The Keeper of Knowledge contentedly hummed. **"Especially when it's people _sees_ you."**

He glared up. "What in the names of the Gods do you mean by that, demon?"

 **"You will know, _in time._ You will know."** Hermaeus Mora yawned. **"And so, heed my _parting_ words, mortal... This world is drenched in _blood and hatred_. You must do well to _live._ "**

And with the vanishing of the writhing mass of boneless limbs, of delving pincers, of gnashing blades and of prying orbs did the Daedric Prince take its leave.

Hammond stood alone under the moonlit autumn forest. He heaved out a tired, long-suffering sigh, and paused as he heard life return to the forest - the insects playing their songs, and the animals hunting or foraging in the dark. With the oppressive presence of the demon gone, he was much calmer now, and being calm meant he had a better sense of clarity with him. He felt different, somehow, but he couldn't tell what was different with himself. He could only hope whatever manner of malevolent magic the demon had inflicted on him, it's effects were temporary.

"Damn," He cursed under his breath. "I forgot... that bastard broke my axe. I'd better make do with my spells then."

Another sigh, and he rolled his shoulders. He turned to face the path which he was told to follow.

"The sooner this is done with, the better. Lydia and the children must be wondering where I am right now..."

The hungry howls of distant wolves followed in his wake.

* * *

 **OF HUNTING DRAGONS**

 **I**

 ** _-END-_**

* * *

 _Author's Note 2:_  
Woah... that was different. Just what is wrong with me these days? I gotta lay off the meds sometime. Man. Anyways, here's hoping that you liked this trainwreck of a fanfic. There's more chapters coming. Hopefully, if I don't lose interest that is. Until next time readers, or never again. Oh yeah, you may have noticed something off with my writing here... if not, then you're probably fine. If you did, you might want to talk to someone about it. Now enough ramblings from me. See you later.


	2. Chapter II

_Author's Note 1:_  
Wow. I'm surprised a lot of people actually took the time to read my fanfic. Touching... I suppose I shouldn't complain. I better crack on with churning out more chapters for this fanfic then. It feels nice, being able to do so again. Besides, it has been a while since I did anything with my FanFiction account other than the minor updates I did here and there. But enough of my ramblings. Here's chapter two of this fanfic, and here's hoping you enjoy reading it... if it makes sense, that is.

But first, I'd like to address or answer the questions of the kind people who were really nice enough to Review my story. Or, just react to them. I tip my flat cap to you all:

 _Guest #1:_  
Yes. I've realized that Hammond would be noticed by Ozpin if he ever used his magic. But remember, since I said that I'm making up this story as I go along, I think you'd be thrilled to know that he probably might not be. Heavy stress on the word, 'probably'. As you will read in this chapter, things might not have turned out as you wanted it to be. So, sorry in advance if I happened to have disappointed you. Oh yeah, on the Amber side of things... I initially wanted Hammond to head straight to Beacon, but I changed my mind at the last second because I thought, why not? Also, I wanted to put my own spin on things in the RWBYverse with my Nord character.

 _High Lord Rokland:_  
Thank you for your honest opinion! In truth, I tried to get behind the... Eyes... of Hermaeus Mora, so that I would be able to get a feel of what he/she/it is like. But then I realized I would get locked up in an asylum somewhere, so I decided to do the next best thing - trying to speak like the Daedric Prince to make it be more in-character as it was in the game. I was also inspired by Lovecraft himself to try and describe it as I did in the first chapter... and I may have copied and pasted some of its descriptions from the TES wikia. I'll go to my corner of shame now...

 _quentin3655:_  
Dude, that fanfic idea of yours sounds really awesome. Have you tried your hand at writing it yourself yet? Maybe you should ask for help from both the RWBY and TES communities here on FanFiction, if you haven't yet - everybody loves a hero who's fallen from grace, and with the help of both fandoms, your story might even be popular enough to have a page on TVTropes which I am a Troper at! I'm still McSlendy there, and no, I don't have a Troper Page yet. Sad, but it's not really important. Anyways, you asked what kind of armor Hammond wears? It's just simple steel armor, minus the helmet; he prefers steel more than dragonbone, for some strange reason...

 _Guest #2:_  
Yeah... that thought's been in my mind lately. For those of who you are not familiar with the lore of TES:V-Skyrim, all the Dragons (Dov) in the game are the children or physical aspects of Akatosh, the Aedric God of Time. And Dragons. Guest #2 here has put forward a very valid argument - as Dragons (or more accurately, their souls) belong to Akatosh, it would mean to say that Hammond, by all accounts, does not really belong to Hermaeus Mora, on the basis of being a mortal born with the soul of one. More than likely, if Akatosh had to, he would burn the Daedric Prince to death just to get the Dragonborn's soul back, which really isn't in the possession of Mora to begin with, thus leading to a headache which I am not sure how to explain clearly, or have explained. Maybe I've gotten myself confused now, and mixed things up. Oh well, there's the TES wikia for those sorts of things.

Regardless, one has to remember that Hammond was brought to Remnant with no clear way back, with the demon being the _only apparent_ ticket back home for him. Sure, Akatosh or even Talos himself could pop in and say, 'Yo, I'ma take you back Hambone' and Hammond would be like 'Cool', but then A/T would realize 'Aw shit, I'm probably even not supposed to do that' and then leave, making Hammond be like ':'(' and stay in Remnant while Mora laughs like the creepy motherfucker he is over at his corner... Confused yet? But there's more! Which I am not going to continue ever again. Maybe at one point, Hammond does find another way back to Nirn, but by then, he's come to treat Remnant like a second home and would not even think of leaving it to the tender mercies of one knowledge-hungry demon-god-thing. So... wow, two paragraphs dedicated to you, buddy! I hope what I typed so far has answered your question and made you and the others reading my response laugh at some points.

Continuing on, I've come to the realization that people might get sick of me answering the Reviews of the people who took the time to express their thoughts about what they've read at every beginning author's note. I mean, look at all those words! Hitherto, I might tone my reactions down, and instead reply using PMs... if I actually bothered myself enough to, as that would take the fun out of typing just a teeny-tiny little bit. Oh well. I suppose I shouldn't really complain, like I've said. Anyways, onwards with reading the story, people! I hope it's to your liking!

* * *

 **OF HUNTING DRAGONS**

 **II**

* * *

The broken moon in the sky was the only source of light Hammond had as he kept walking on the only path he could barely see in the dark.

The forest, with it's leaves and tree trunks of autumn, remained alive as the Nord stayed his vigilant course. He couldn't help, in the disconcerting disquiet, to curse Hermaeus Mora under his breath one more time for destroying the only axe he had the time to grab before he got pulled into Apocrypha against his will - wary was he of the sounds around him as he briskly made progress to Vale... wherever that place was. Every now and then the man made to stop when the bushes rustled, the potent magic that then coursed through his raised hands itching to be cast at whatever creature foolish enough to be near him. When those moments turned out to be false alarms, the man still kept his guard up, always expecting the worst to come.

 _'I did not live up to this long by being complacent, after all.'_ He mused idly to himself. _'Skyrim shows no mercy to the unprepared.'_

Another bush rustled.

"Okay, that's it."

Hammond launched a fireball at it. It then burst into flames as a creature he couldn't see clearly yelped and darted away to who knows where.

"At last, some peace and quiet." Or at the very least it was silent now - he was more glad to be able to hear himself think. "Now, where was the path again? Oh wait, I'm still on it."

The Nord kept on walking, the wind his only company. And it was so that Hammond found himself in yet another lonesome journey, but to where, he was not even sure of. Overall, it wasn't different to the journeys he's had back in Nirn, really. It was his wanderlust that led him to places he usually wouldn't care exploring, aside from the odd rumor or two that he'd heard which made him curious enough to check out. And speaking of curiosity... The blond frowned as he recalled Hermaeus Mora's parting words. Knowing the demon's ways, the Nord knew it was probably mixing the truth in with some lies again, just enough for it to motivate him to act. But still, to call a world he just heard about as such? He had to admit, that got his attention all right.

Hammond paused. _'Aside from the secrets Mora wants, what is it about Remnant that got that Gods-damned demon so interested about this world, anyway?'_

It was a world drenched in blood and hatred, as Hermaeus Mora had said. Obviously, he didn't take the demon's word for it at face value, but then again he hadn't been to this world before nor had he thought that it existed to begin with. He also hadn't met anyone from it, and neither did he meet any of it's creatures yet. The Nord wondered if it was of any difference from Nirn, of whether or not it had beast-folk like the Khajiit who he admired for their cunning ways, and whether or not it also had pointy-eared bastards like the Gods-damned Thalmor strutting about as if the whole world was theirs... not that he had anything against elves in general. It was just the Thalmor he had an axe to grind against. If they existed in this world, then he'd have a field day.

He smirked at his idea. "Gods above they really get into my nerves, the Thalmor. It doesn't help that they're enjoyable to kill... and I should stop talking now. I sound like a psychopath."

Pushing aside his hate of the elven supremacists, the man stopped again when he suddenly heard the howling of wolves in the distance, and promptly readied himself for a fight by stopping to turn and face the coming wolf-pack head on. Flames flickered to life in his hands and he took on his battle stance; his feet apart and his arms raised slightly. The crushing of leaves and the loudening howls and growls of the beasts made his heart beat faster and his blood boil. Any moment now, and another battle for his life would begin. He hoped that the wolves were stronger, smarter than the ones back home. It would make savoring his victory even more the sweeter. It wasn't long until Hammond blocked everything else out, his thirst of battle driving him to sate it.

"What's taking you wolves so damn long?!" He impatiently roared. "I am right here! Come, and die to me already! I don't have all night!"

A guttural roar louder than he expected answered him back. A pair of yellow eyes met his. Then their owner burst through the gaps of the woods and bared itself in all its bestial glory to him.

The first thing Hammond thought when he saw the creature was that it resembled a werewolf. It hunched its back, despite its actual height, giving itself an imposing figure. Its fur was white, like the purest of snow. Its spikes and claws, however, were like the blackest of nights. Its gray, mask-like face was terrifying - red lines ran down from it's length, making it seem like the beast was crying tears of blood. Then more of its kind came out, but with black fur, white spikes and claws, red eyes, and the same mask on their faces. They surrounded him within seconds, but instead of overwhelming the Nord with their numbers, they circled him. Some salivated hungrily, and the smaller, seemingly younger ones howled like mad behind their elder pack mates.

Hammond narrowed his eyes at the great white creature and the flames in his hands burned brighter with his fury.

"So. You must be the alpha of your pack. And you're all werewolves?"

 _"Grrrrr."_

"Hm. You do know you've led your kin to their doom, yes?"

 _"Grrrrrrrrr!"_

"... That's good enough for me." He sighed in disappointment - the Nord had been denied the joy of pre-fight banter. "Now DIE, DAMN YOU!"

The battle ended as quickly as it started. Hammond had merely charged his magic to cast the Destruction spell 'Fire Storm', and it was all over once he released his power. The howling of the wolves died as most of them turned into ash in the air, the fiery blast of his magic far too much for their bodies to withstand when they leapt at him. Even the alpha werewolf, despite how menacing it looked up close, had easily suffered the same fate as its kin. A shame. He had hoped it would be the last werewolf standing, so that he could kill it with his bare hands and then skin its corpse. Its white fur would have looked good on him. Hammond groaned, his shoulders sagging - he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Angrily, he started kicking the nearest body.

"Stupid, damn, werewolves!" The blond barbarian yelled between kicks. "You, all, should, have, been, more, damn, CHALLENGING! ARGH!"

The man started calming down as he ran his still-hot hands through his hair, now that he had vented his rage. Maybe there were more challenging prey to be had around Remnant. Surely, those werewolf-like creatures weren't the only threats the people of this world had to face? The Son of the Snow stilled that worrying train of thought, and then he quickly shook his head. No, there had to be. Unless the reason why Remnant was a world drenched in blood and hatred was because it's people killed each other more often than they did creatures like these, then he probably wouldn't want to stay in this world any longer than he had to. Remnant's problems weren't his to fix, after all - and besides, he has a family waiting back home for him in Skyrim.

 _'Now that's over and done with, I should get going.'_ Hammond did so, but paused again. _'Wait a minute... what in Oblivion were those things, exactly? They aren't Daedra, as far as I can tell.'_

The few remaining burnt corpses of the white-masked werewolf-esque creatures surrounding Hammond began to dissolve as he watched them disappear in disbelief. What few dead eyes were left had bored into his own as they turned into ash, then smoke, and then into nothingness. The Nord actually gaped. Considering that these creatures came as a pack like the animals they resembled, it honestly came as a surprise for him to see their corpses eventually vanish like that. It was just weird. And to think, he had seen many other weird things in Nirn himself...

"Well, at least they'll never hurt anyone now, whatever they were." Hammond reasoned to himself. "And I should really stop talking to myself. Damned demon, making me travel alone..."

The man continued walking on the path he'd been set. The night grew long, quiet, but thankfully no more of those strange creatures bothered him as he marched on. The darkness though made it a little hard for him to avoid roots sticking out of the forest floor, and he barely suppressed his winces as his boots crushed the leaves dotting the ground. He preferred to be quiet, see. The quieter he was, the less likely he would be harassed by the local wildlife. Not that he wouldn't mind burning more of them into a crisp, of course. He could do that all week if he wanted to.

Hours passed and the Nord was getting impatient. He had expected to see a city or at least a town by now. Just how big was this forest? He had an inkling he would be here for a while, and that just made him more annoyed. Sure, while he could make camp in places he deemed safe in the forest, he didn't want to risk staying in this place any longer than he should have. The thing was about forests, is that their inhabitants preferred it if you stayed out of them. If you didn't without their consent, they tended to get very cranky and end up wanting to rip you to pieces.

The air became only chillier as the night drew on. The broken moon, in it's strange form high in the sky, shone brightly now. The man took a moment to appreciate it's odd beauty, even though he dismissed it earlier. He'd been used to seeing Secunda and Masser for so long, the named moons being the supposed halves of the dead god Lorkhan. Seeing another one - one with a unique state - was actually new to him, especially when it wasn't the supposed body of a dead god. Falion probably would love to see it, the old conjurer having been to other worlds himself.

A sudden rustle. The Nord stilled and stopped breathing. His keen ears waited for another sound. It had sounded too close; was it a person, or was it another one of those creatures?

A literal lone Daedra-werewolf-thing, perhaps? Or something... worse?

 **"Hammond Hammer-Hand."**

It was something _much worse_.

Hammond stared down at the boneless limbs that appeared from a portal only a few feet away from him. Slowly, he followed their lazy progress and saw an Eye looming down upon him, surrounded by more of their kind. A soft chuckle reverberated around the forest, and more Eyes opened. Great pincers of gargantuan size then erupted from far larger portals, and a faint green light filtered from the rips in reality. It basked the trees in it's malicious color, mixing with the colorful leaves and grass to make them look similar to Apocrypha's expanse of oily waters.

The light shouldn't have made them look like that, the leaves and the grass. Whatever sense of normalcy they had once exuded, they all were gone now. As were the faint voices of the forest.

 _"Demon..."_ The blond barbarian hissed, the venom of his voice enough to _Kill_. "Why have you come so soon? What do you want?"

 **" _How_ are you finding _Remnant?_ " **The Daedric Prince, Hermaeus Mora, leered in all of its eldritch form as it appeared above him. **"Personally, I find it's wilds quite... _lively_. Don't _you?_ "**

 _"What. Do. You. Want."_

Laughter bellowed from the god-like entity floating in the air above him. A gale that wasn't meant to be blew outwards from it, and the trees around the man and the demon bent due to the fury of the latter. Leaves tore themselves from their branches, like how a _Leech_ was torn from its victim, as the Nord held up an arm to shield his face from the alien winds screaming past it. His hair danced, and abruptly settled as the inhuman sound repeated and boomed into the forest and beyond, while its pincers cackled their eagerness to soon rend and tear his flesh apart.

 **"My _oh_ my, dear _servant_. Must you be so _disrespectful of your own master?_ "**

"How many times do I have to tell you? You are not my master! _"_ Hammond snarled, and prepared for the drifting limbs of black-green which were going to close in and impale him for his defiance at any moment now. Flames flickered in his palms again and they burned gloriously at his command. "Of course I'll never respect you, for you deserve my scorn, not my servitude!"

The Prince's Eyes narrowed even more, and all its limbs froze. It was thus that Hermaeus Mora resembled a glaring emerald sun of the veritable unknown. For a while silence reigned supreme, and both man and Daedra exchanged their dark gazes, waiting to strike at whoever acted first. More hours passed, and then a hiss escaped the demon - or was it a sigh? - and its limbs lazed again. All of its Eyes widened back to their half-lidded forms and its pincers retreated only slightly to the depths they came from. But its green light grew in it's nauseous intensity.

 **"It has come to my _attention_... that a _written_ event of _fate_ , is soon to occur."** The demon whispered. He noted it ignored his resistance. **"I want you to _rewrite_ it as you please."**

"For what nefarious purpose of yours?" The man asked carefully, mistrustful of the being's intentions. "What does it have to do with my obtaining of Remnant's secrets?"

 **" _Everything_ yet _nothing_."** If the demon had a human head, it would have been nodding sagely. **"This event is what few _would_ call... a _divergence point._ It has _piqued_ my curiosity."**

The Son of Skyrim stiffened at that, and let his flames and anger die, quickly replacing them with concern. The Daedric Prince wanted to change something - fate itself? - here in Remnant?

 _'That does not bode well for the people of this world...'_ Hammond thought to himself, and dark scenarios played out in his head. Knowing the Daedric Prince, people would at least _Suffer_.

He looked up and frowned. "What are you planning to do, demon?"

The Prince 'tsked' in amusement. It was akin to the sound of bones being crushed - and it ignored him again. **"I _will_ soon take you to the _location_ of such a _momentous_ occasion."**

"So much for pointing me in the right direction earlier." The Nord couldn't help but say, and he sighed tiredly. "What a waste of my time, walking in this forest!"

 **"Not _quite._ "** Hermaeus Mora chuckled. Its grandfatherly tone returned unbidden, unwanted. **"Tell me, _Dragonborn_ , what do you _think_ of those creatures... _you've_ killed?"**

"What do _you_ think?" Hammond questioned back, his voice deadpan yet wary. "I know you watched how it went."

 **"Hmph. You are... _right_ in that regard."** The Prince rolled its Eyes, not even denying it. The Nord found it disturbing to see it act so human-like. **"The _fight_ was most disappointing."**

The man let his _own_ disappointment show. "You're telling me, demon! And here I honestly thought those creatures made for a good fight! Damn their weakness!"

An awkward silence lingered in the air after his outburst, and Hammond cursed himself for acting so freely in front of the demon he so loathed. No doubt, it would be considering his love for fighting to be a factor in its future manipulations of him now, if it hadn't already. The Daedric Princes, for all of their supposedly unknown thought processes, could actually have their next actions easily be guessed at by mere process of elimination, but even then that method tended to fly out the window whenever they were concerned. Suffice to say, Hammond Hammer-Hand knew he had messed up really badly, and was desperately hoping that the demon wouldn't take advantage of his bloodlust. He may be a Dragonborn, but that didn't mean he was infallible.

 **"So you _feel_."** The man could tell the demon was nodding again, even though it lacked a head. **" _But_ rejoice, Hammond. Those creatures were _merely_ the _weakest_ of the Grimm."**

 _'So that's what they're called.'_ Hammond noted. "... You said that they were the weakest? Also, are there more to these 'Grimm' aside from their similarities to the creatures in Nirn I know of?"

 **"Yes,"** The demon sounded like a teacher. **"The Grimm are _soulless_ beings. Where they _come_ from, and the how's and the _why's_ of their sad existences are _hotly_ debated about." **

"Must be fairly intriguing," The Son of the Snow pretended to care. But at least now he knew they were soulless, meaning no sending them to the Soul Cairn. "Anything else I should know?"

 **"Yes,"** It repeated. **"I _realized_ that I... left _you_ unarmed."** \- His eyebrow twitched - **"And so, I have _brought_ you... _a replacement weapon_. It is but a mere token of my _regret._ "**

Hermaeus Mora _hummed._ And lo, the nearest trees cracked under the weight of the Gardener of Men's euclidean power - another portal had opened. But instead of the realm of Apocrypha, a snow-white world with a looming mountain in the far distance was shown through the gap, and before Hammond could see what else the other world held, the portal closed in on itself as quickly as it had opened. Throughout all that an object had floated through, and upon closer inspection, it was an axe. But not just any axe. Hammond could sense it - it was a _powerful axe_.

It floated down gently until it reached him, handle first. It's sharp, yet curious semi-opaque blade - seemingly made of solid colorless ice - felt cold to the touch as the Nord ran his fingers across it. It reminded him of home. In many ways, it looked like a typical Steel War Axe, complete with it being engraved with the traditional Nordic imagery, but it's nuances were enough to make it stand out from it's brethren. For example, it looked heavy, but not heavy enough to be difficult to swing and hack with. It's blade was longer, wider, and from the looks of things, was more than able to cleave an unfortunate victim into many pieces. Suddenly Hammond cut himself on an invisible edge and pulled away his finger, widening his eyes when he saw his frozen blood on it.

"What in Tal..." He trailed off when he saw that the axe was no longer an axe - was it him, or did it just transform into a crossbow? "What the? But it was an axe... I... What is this sorcery?!"

 **"That, my _servant_ , is what _the_ people of this world call... _a 'weapon transformation'._ "** Seeing the blank look on the man's face, the demon chuckled. **"You will find it to your _liking._ "**

Tentatively, Hammond Hammer-Hand, loving husband and proud father of two adopted and adorable daughters, grabbed the axe-crossbow-thing by it's handle. He carefully aimed it down it's sights towards the distance and feeling near the stock for the trigger, accidentally pulled it and could only watch as a grand colorless bolt was fired from his new weapon, despite it lacking an actual loaded bolt and the groove where said bolt would be stored until it was fired. He also could not help but be impressed as the bolt hit a tree, and then made it explode in a colorless blast, reducing the area around it into naught but a crater. The Nord looked at his weapon in a new light. What was this thing? Better yet, who made it and _how?_ He wanted to learn from it's creator.

 _'I can't wait to test how this works.'_ He thought giddily. _'I may hate Hermaeus Mora, but damn doesn't the demon know how to get on my good side... which it still isn't on, thankfully.'_

As if the one who gave it to him wasn't there, Hammond began experimenting with it like a child being given his first weapon. He shot more bolts out, watching their explosions - more like compressed air expanding violently - destroy everything they hit. Sometime in the interim, he accidentally touched a different part of the stock, and the crossbow transformed into a sword. Which he swung around multiple times, finding it to be weighted just right. Feeling around it's hilt, it transformed yet again. This time, it turned into a mace. Then, a dagger, a katana, even a greatsword... The Nord eventually realized his jaw had dropped as it changed into more forms he recognized, up until he thought that it wouldn't turn back into an axe when it did just that.

 _'Wait. When I wanted it to be an axe, did it turn into one when I wanted it to be...?'_ With courage, Hammond thought of it as a hammer, and it turned into one as he pressed a button.

 _"By the Gods!"_ He breathed out. With begrudging gratitude to the Daedric Prince who watched him test his new weapon, he nodded. "I thank you, demon. This is a fine... whatever it actually is."

 **"You are _welcome_ , Hammond."** Hermaeus Mora spoke lazily, its own words slurred in ways they shouldn't have. **"But it _seems_ you have _spent_ quite the _time_ exploring it's _features_."**

And indeed, the demon was right. It was already morning in Remnant, if the dark gray clouded skies above them were of any proof. Or was it? He couldn't tell. Anyhow, the Nord blinked.

"Huh. Time does passes quickly when one has fun," He mused to himself, and shook his head. "Right... back to the order of business. Demon, weren't you going to take me to that event?"

 **"Ah, yes... _That._ "** The multi-tentacled, multi-pincered, and multi-Eyed being hummed in a more thoughtful, definitely not world-opening way. _**"You are already there."**_

The Son of the Snow blinked again. _"What."_

That was when the Nord realized he was standing in the middle of a dirt road, fenced on both sides with wood. Not too far ahead, a purple-eyed woman of dark skin and strange light-green hair wearing moderately modest clothes was gaping at him, looking at him as if it was the first time she had noticed him. Which, considering how Hammond didn't recall arriving to this place nor did he remember being transported to it, was probably right. A horse neighed behind him, and he turned around to see another dark-skinned woman looking extremely surprised at his sudden appearance as well. She had brown hair, and had an almost similar shade of brown eyes. He could barely see a beauty mark under her left eye, behind her green hooded cloak.

 _"What."_ Hammond repeated dumbly, looking to and fro from one not-Redguard to another. They both looked equally dumbfounded. _"What."_

Looking back at that moment, Hammond should have known that he shouldn't have been surprised when the area around him suddenly turned into a battlefield, with a black-haired, beautiful woman - who may or may not have been a Nord - attacking him with a bow, followed by a gray-haired young Imperial-looking man who literally _flew-kicked_ his way towards him. Though he dodged both attacks without fail, he also realized that the woman behind him was also attacking _him._ His instincts were telling him to fight them all back but his mind, in it's attempt to try and comprehend what happened to him, had locked him in a state of shock. And as his body acted of it's own accord and countered their attacks effortlessly, he had but one question to ask:

 _"... What."_

* * *

 **OF HUNTING DRAGONS**

 **II**

 ** _-END-_**

* * *

 _Author's Note 2:_  
FUCK YOU, WRITER'S BLOCK! FUCK YOU! YEAH! MCSLENDY'S BACK, AWW YEAH!  
... Ahem. Sorry about that, I just got carried away. Anyhow, here's Chapter II of the fanfic, Of Hunting Dragons! See you next time, readers, and try not to get yourselves devoured by a Lovecraftian demon borne of all our fears of the unknown, and more. I'm looking at you Hermaeus Mora. I know you're there, watching us always... waiting... Which it isn't, really. Or is it?


End file.
